Kissing My Partner
by DaLiza
Summary: The Santa in the Slush kiss seen from three points of view: Booth's, Brennan's and Caroline's. One POV per chapter.
1. Booth's POV

AN: Thanks to my best friend, beta (and new roommate!) CalleighAryn for her thoughtful suggestions.

Booth's POV

This isn't how I imagined our first kiss would be.

I thought it might happen in the diner. We would be there celebrating the end of a case, talking long into the night and staring into each other's eyes as always. Some intense look or flirtatious remark would push us over the edge, and we would lean towards each other...closer…closer…until our lips met. My hands would find their way into her hair, and my mouth would stay on hers until my lungs threatened to explode.

Or maybe it would happen in her apartment. It might be sudden and without warning, like when she kissed me on the cheek in the hospital. Maybe she would grab me and press her lips hungrily against mine…like Cam's sister did. Except this time I wouldn't be repulsed. I wouldn't try to escape. I'd kiss her back so hard that her legs would buckle. I'd pull her into my arms to keep her from falling and when the kiss ended she would moan for more.

Or maybe it would be on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, her face glowing in the moonlight. Or in the Jeffersonian lounge over a take-out container of Thai food and a half-empty bottle of wine. Or in the SUV during a stakeout. Or in some worn down warehouse after rescuing her from certain death yet again. Or on a deserted stretch of highway after our car breaks down in the middle of a cold, winter night. We have to cling to each other to keep warm and one thing leads to another—

But it's not as if I've thought about it a lot.

Anyway, kissing her under mistletoe in her office while Caroline Julian watched was **not** one of the scenarios I had imagined. Yet Bones is currently hanging mistletoe and explaining why she's going to kiss me in the same tone she uses to describe the injuries of a murder victim. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that she has planned our first kiss so methodically, even chewing gum in preparation; she's not exactly the spontaneous type. I wonder if the first time we make love will be planned like this…then I remind myself that Bones is my partner, so I can't let my mind go there. I may have no control over the fantasies that captivate my sleeping mind, the ones that make my inner Catholic blush, but while I'm awake I need to show some restraint.

Why would Caroline do this? This is more than her being "puckish". She's known my feelings for Bones ever since I begged her for help in New Orleans. She was understandably confused as to why I wanted her, a prosecutor, to defend Bones on a murder charge. I told her that it was because she was the best, and I wanted the best for my partner. _Your partner, cher? It sounds like she's more than that. A whole lot more. _ I denied it, but she wasn't fooled. Now she's playing matchmaker. She may have noble intentions, but I want Bones to kiss me because she _wants_ to kiss me, not because it's the only way a federal prosecutor will allow her dad to spend Christmas with his family.

I tell Bones that I'll talk to Caroline, and her forceful "NO" makes me jump. Why would she say no like that? Is it possible that she actually wants to kiss me? I'm still trying to wrap my mind around this thought when Caroline walks into the office. She congratulates me on having a suspect in Santa's death before shoving me under the mistletoe. Very subtle, Caroline.

I should protest, but Bones is smiling as she leans towards me and my mind can't form the words. Now our lips are touching, and my body is screaming at me to take full advantage of this moment to show her how much I love her…but now isn't the right time or place to give in to temptation. I need to keep this kiss light and gentle.

But Bones isn't being gentle anymore. She's grabbed my jacket and has thrust her tongue into my mouth. God, she's good at this. I knew she would be; she's good at everything. Something this good can't last long. Any second now I expect her to stop, but the kiss keeps going on, and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold myself back. I don't care anymore that Caroline is watching us, or that any passing squint is getting a good show. I'm dangerously close to losing any pretense of self-control.

As I start to really kiss her back, she pulls away from me. She asks Caroline something about steamboats, but I'm too busy trying to catch my breath to understand what she's talking about. Bones just said that kissing me was like kissing her brother! She's got to be kidding. No one kisses their brother like that…unless they're a character in a Greek tragedy or a guest on Jerry Springer. Caroline seems a little flustered. Her voice is shaky as she tells Bones the trailer is ready and leaves the office.

I steal a glance at Bones to see if her face is as red as mine. I think it is, but I'm worried that the kiss has affected me more than her. I need to get out of here before I do or say something that will ruin our partnership, so I start muttering something about needing to see the forensics guy. Yeah, like I'm really thinking about the case right now. I'm kind of relieved to hear her stuttering too, mumbling about having to do something with bones. Since when does she say something as normal sounding as "bones" and not some fancy Latin name?

I'm starting to realize that there's something in my mouth. Oh God, it's gum…her gum. I thank her for it and put it back in my mouth. Now I can hold onto her taste for a little while longer. This wasn't the first kiss I had imagined for us, but someday, somewhere we'll kiss again. No blackmail, no witnesses, no holding back. Just me and Bones…the way we're meant to be.

Thanks for reading! All comments are greatly appreciated. :)


	2. Brennan's POV

**AN: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. I've been a little depressed lately, and your reviews helped lift my spirits. **:)

**AN2: I'm proud to announce that my dear friend and beta CalleighAryn has written her first fanfic, a CSI: New York one shot titled "Anything's Bearable." She did a great job, so check it out!**

Brennan's POV

Like the mythical Santa Claus, I'm making a list and checking it twice.

Mistletoe and string from a box of Jeffersonian holiday decorations? Check.

Location for mistletoe selected? Check.

Rod for hanging mistletoe borrowed from maintenance? Check.

Chewing gum? Check.

I have everything I need for my kiss with Booth…well, everything except Booth himself. He should be here momentarily.

I meant to tell him about the kiss earlier, but we were too busy discussing the case and his disappointment about not spending Christmas with Parker. He doesn't really need much advance notice anyway. It's only a kiss, and a kiss is only a gesture of mutual affection. It's nothing that either of us hasn't done numerous times before with multiple partners. In five seconds it will be over and we'll both go back to work. It's not a big deal.

Nevertheless, I'm puzzled as to why Caroline asked me to do this. Booth had said that Caroline would want something in return for helping my father, but I wasn't expecting her to make such an unusual request. I would have preferred a more traditional method of showing gratitude for a favor, such as buying her dinner, but she insisted on my kissing him. If that's what it takes to give my father his Christmas, I'll do it.

I have to confess that the thought of kissing my partner isn't an entirely unpleasant one. Anthropologically, Booth is well built with strong, symmetrical features. Any fantasies I may have had about him are the logical result of my body's instinctive reaction to those features. In real life, I know that we could never have a sexual relationship because as partners we need to maintain a professional distance. Therefore this kiss will be entirely professional.

Booth finally walks into my office. Good, now we can get started. As he fills me in on the latest developments in our case, I hang the mistletoe. He asks what I'm doing and I describe my deal with Caroline. I hate how nervous I sound as I offer him a piece of gum. Why should I be nervous? It's just Booth. There's no cause for anxiety. There's no reason for my mouth to go dry or for my body to start perspiring. I wipe my hands on my shirt. There must be something wrong with the Jeffersonian's heating system.

Booth seems uncomfortable as I explain the conditions of the kiss, possibly due to his religious upbringing. When he says that he'll talk to Caroline, however, I get upset. Caroline and I have already come to an agreement; I'm not going to back out now. Surely Booth can put his discomfort aside for five short seconds and do this as a favor to me.

Any further discussion about the kiss is cut off by Caroline's arrival. I ask her about the arrangements for my father and she in turn wants to know about my end of the deal. I point to the mistletoe in response and she pushes Booth under it. Booth starts to say something, but my mouth is on his before he can finish his sentence.

The kiss is light at first, very appropriate for two colleagues. No line-crossing here. Yet it occurs to me that I haven't kissed a man since Sully, and this 'professional' kiss is completely unsatisfactory. I want…no, I _need_ more. I increase the pressure on his lips, expecting him to respond with equal force.

He doesn't.

I'm disappointed. I tell myself that it's because my biological needs aren't being met, but I realize that's only part of the truth. I admit to myself that I want Booth to want me. Does he? My mind quickly considers the evidence: he compliments me on my physical appearance, touches me, invades my personal space, gives me gifts (a pig and a smurf, but gifts nonetheless), and drops by my apartment frequently, often without a valid reason. All of these things combined might indicate that he's attracted to me, but maybe they're merely the actions of a devoted friend and partner. I could be mistaken in believing that our attraction was mutual.

Needing to gather more evidence, I grab his jacket and stick my tongue in his mouth, eagerly exploring this unknown territory. I use every technique I have ever learned to bring him pleasure. It's as if all of my previous kissing experiences were in preparation for this moment, when I can finally use my skills on someone for whom I have real feelings. If he doesn't kiss me back now, then it will be clear that he doesn't return those feelings. If that's the case, I'll deal with it just as I always—

Wow. Never mind. Now he's definitely responding with an intensity matching my own. I always knew he'd be a good kisser. It would be tempting to let this kiss continue, but I should stop before things go too far. We are in my office, after all, and Caroline is watching us. There may be a time and place for us to cross the line, but this isn't it. Reluctantly, I pull away from him.

I ask Caroline if that was enough steamboats because I honestly have no idea how much time has passed. Her answer and the look on her face would suggest that our kiss ended up being a little longer than five seconds. Worried that my feelings for Booth have become too apparent, I say that kissing him was like kissing my brother. I'm surprised that I could say that with a straight face. I love Russ, but I would never kiss him like _that_. I'm not sure that Caroline believes me. After she leaves, Booth seems shaken, tripping over his words as he says that he needs to see the forensics guy. I take pride in the knowledge that my kissing techniques have affected him so deeply.

Then I hear myself stumbling over my own words. _I've got stuff to do too…yeah…the… for...with bones. _I can't believe I just said that! I'm a world renowned forensic anthropologist with three degrees and I sound like a child. It's a good thing Booth is going; now I can take some time to compose myself. My heart rate is starting to return to normal when I hear Booth thank me for my gum as he leaves. I'm grateful he can't see me blush.

I step on my chair and take down the mistletoe. Now everything's back to normal—my office is as it should be, and Booth and I are returning to work. We'll find Santa's killer and arrest him, like we always do. Nothing has changed.

As I review my notes on the case, however, I find my thoughts occasionally drifting back to the kiss. It was nice…very nice. Maybe someday we can do it again. I think of Booth standing at the marina, comforting me after yet another man had walked out of my life. He put his arm around me and said: _Everything happens eventually…you just got to be ready for it._

When Booth and I decide to cross the line, I'll be ready.

**Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts. **:)


	3. Caroline's POV

**AN: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the first two chapters, and to my wonderfully supportive beta CalleighAryn.**

Caroline's POV

"Lord, what fools these mortals be," Puck says in Mr. Shakespeare's _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. If Shakespeare hadn't been dead for almost four hundred years, I'd swear he was talking about Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan.

I've never seen two people gaze at each other the way those two do. When I saw them in the diner in New Orleans, smiling and laughing together, I assumed they were a couple. They often look like they're only seconds away from jumping each other, but Seeley insists that they're just partners. Sure you are, cher. You offered to do anything for me if I would defend your _partner _on a murder charge. You got my car smashed to bits so you could run off and save your _partner_. You whined like a baby when your _partner _wouldn't go out into the field with you. You called in every favor to get special treatment for your _partner_'s criminal relations. Who does he think he's kidding? My God, that boy's got it bad.

Dr. Brennan tries to hide her emotions by using a lot of fancy scientific words, but anyone with eyes and half a brain can see that she loves him just as much. She practically threw herself into his arms in the middle of Dr. Hodgins and Ms. Montenegro's wedding, and Booth was smiling as he hugged her back. Neither of them seemed to remember that they were in front of a church full of people. Of course they wouldn't; they only see each other. They're completely smitten, but don't do a damn thing about it. Fools.

When I look at them, I see myself and Charlie. More than twenty five years ago, we were both assistant district attorneys working in New Orleans. We worked long, long hours, but we always managed to find time to flirt with each other. He was a fine looking man—handsome face, dazzling smile, big muscles, the whole package. He could have been a model; that body would have sold a lot of magazines. But he was more than just a pretty face. He was a good man with a good heart, just like Booth. I know that Charlie liked me almost as much as Booth likes the good doctor, but we were both too busy and too cautious to take the next step. Eventually, Charlie took a job in New York, and I settled for my (ex) husband. I often wonder what would have happened if Charlie and I had been a little bolder. I bet he would have been an amazing lover.

I don't want Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan to have the same regrets, so I've decided to give them a push in the right direction. Puck used magic to bring lovers together; I'm using the promise of a very merry Christmas for Max Keenan. When I told Dr. Brennan she had to kiss Booth under the mistletoe (a real kiss, not just a quick peck on the cheek), I knew she'd agree sooner or later. I'm sure she's thought about kissing him before—that oversized brain of hers can't be thinking about anthropology all the time—and I don't see Booth having any objections to some mistletoe action with his _partner._ I've given them the perfect opportunity to stop being so damn _polite_ with each other.

As I walk toward Dr. Brennan's office, I see them standing close to each other like always, as if they don't know what "personal space" means. When I enter the office, I make small talk about the case and the arrangements for Dr. Brennan's father, but I don't let myself be distracted from my mission. I nudge Booth under the mistletoe and watch as Dr. Brennan moves towards him. He's about to make some excuse, but she doesn't let him. Good job, cherie.

One steamboat. My, they're off to a good start.

Two steamboats. I notice Dr. Brennan's hands moving up Booth's jacket, pulling him closer.

Three steamboats. Did she just put her tongue in his mouth?

Four steamboats. Oh yes, there was definitely tongue.

Five steamboats. I could tell them that they've reached five, but I don't think they'd care. They don't seem to have any intention of stopping anytime soon.

Six steamboats. Good Lord! They're like teenagers at the prom. I knew they were hot for each other, but I'm a little surprised (and embarrassed) by this display. I feel like a peeping tom.

Seven steamboats! They're both smiling and red faced when they finally give each other some air. Dr. Brennan asks me if that was enough steamboats. Is she serious? Of course she is; I don't think she knows how to make a joke. I tell her that it was plenty, a whole flotilla. It's obvious that they're both uncomfortable; they're barely looking at each other. Booth blushes as he wishes me a Merry Christmas, and Dr. Brennan claims that kissing him was like kissing her brother.

Your brother? Cherie, do I look like I was born yesterday? I don't say this out loud because I know by now that genius girl would take me literally and answer that I'm obviously much older than one day. Instead I play along and say that she must really like her brother. Both of them are quick to agree.

I wish them a Merry Christmas and hurry out of the office so they don't see me smiling. I hope they'll give it another go with me gone, but I doubt it, considering how eager they were to pretend that nothing had happened. How much longer are they going to lie to each other and to themselves? Hopefully not too much longer. Now that they've had a taste of each other—both figuratively and literally—they can't help but want more. They won't make the same mistake Charlie and I did, no way. Things are gonna get hot and heavy for those two, and they'll stop pretending that they're "just partners." They might even have their own wedding someday, thanks to my little push. The image of them at the altar—as bride and groom this time, not scene-stealing maid of honor and best man—makes my smile grow even bigger.

It feels good to be Puckish.

FINIS

**Thanks for reading! All comments are greatly appreciated. **


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